Orla:

  The soft rustle of silk robes and the quiet murmur of the servants filled the air as I sat before the large floor-length mirror. I had woken up in a haze, my body aching, but at least the nausea had subsided. Now, Gyeong and her team were preparing me for the day, brushing out my hair and pinning it into an intricate updo.

  Morning light filtered through the paper windows, casting a soft glow across the room. But beneath the calm, unease lingered. Something had shifted in me since last night. I just didn’t know what it was yet.

  Just then, the door slid open, and a servant entered, followed closely by a another holding a small, lacquered box. I glanced up, curious.

  “What’s this?” I asked, nodding toward the box in the servant’s hands.

  Gyeong stepped in front of them, bowing slightly before speaking. “This must be the gift from the king, Your Ladyship.”

  A gift from the king? My stomach twisted at the thought, but I kept my expression neutral, watching as Gyeong took the box and carefully set it in my lap.

  I hesitated. A gift from the king could mean anything. None of it good. After what happened the other night—me screaming for help, General Haruto knocking the king unconscious—I was sure the king had died. The way he crumpled, the force of the blow, I thought I had witnessed his end.

  But then, rumors spread. Servants whispered that the king had simply passed out drunk. No one suspected anything. Just another night of excess. I had to act like nothing was wrong.

  With a deep breath, I opened the box.

  Inside lay the most intricate, most luxurious golden binyeo I had ever seen. The ornate hairpin was adorned with a lotus flower in gold, glimmering in the soft morning light. It was a masterpiece.

  Gyeong took the binyeo from the box and carefully placed it into my elaborate chignon. The weight of it felt strange against my scalp, as if the pin itself carried the burden of the life I now found myself trapped in.

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  I stared at my reflection, the golden pin catching the light, and for the first time, I didn’t recognize the woman looking back at me. The timid girl from San Francisco—the one who once bent over backward to please others, to fit into a world that never truly fit her—was gone. In her place stood someone new. Someone stronger. Someone unshaken.

  Something about this moment felt different, like the final piece of a puzzle falling into place.

  I traced my fingers over the smooth surface of the binyeo, my resolve sharpening with every breath. This wasn’t just about survival anymore. This was about escape. About reclaiming the life that was mine, the freedom I had lost.

  Whatever it took, I would find my way home.

  The sudden clattering of footsteps broke through my thoughts. A servant entered, bowing low before me. “Your Ladyship, General Haruto is here to see you.”

  My heart skipped a beat. Haruto? Here?

  Gyeong’s brow furrowed, and she leaned in to whisper, “Should I stay, my Lady? It’s unorthodox for the general to visit alone.”

  Before I could answer, Haruto stepped inside. His presence filled the room instantly. There was a flicker of tension between him and Gyeong, an unspoken challenge in his gaze.

  “Leave us,” he said.

  Gyeong’s mouth tightened, but she bowed and left, her footsteps fading down the hall.

  Haruto stepped further into the room, and before I could gather my thoughts, another figure appeared behind him.

  Milo.

  My heart stopped. There he was—alive and standing right in front of me.

  He was just as handsome as I remembered, but something about him had changed. His features had sharpened, like he’d been through days of hardship since I last saw him. His jaw was more defined, his eyes more intense, carrying a weight they hadn’t before. Despite the familiarity, there was a new edge to him.

  Before I could fully process it, I ran toward him. Relief, fear, and joy crashed over me all at once, and I threw my arms around him, holding him tightly.

  “I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” I whispered, my voice trembling as tears filled my eyes.

  Milo hugged me back just as fiercely, his hands gripping me like he never wanted to let go. “I thought I’d lost you,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “I was so scared, Orla.”

  I pulled away slightly, just enough to look up at him, and saw that his eyes were wet, too. The sight of it made my heart ache in a way I hadn’t expected. This reunion, this moment—it was something I hadn’t realized I needed until it was here.

  But before we could say anything more, Haruto cleared his throat.

  “As touching as this little reunion is,” he said, his voice flat, “I didn’t come here for a sentimental gathering.”

  Milo and I reluctantly separated, turning to face the general, who was now watching us with a cool, almost impatient expression.

  “There are important matters to discuss,” Haruto continued. “And they cannot wait.”

  ?Sky Mincharo